Smoke and Mirrors
by LusciniaeCantus
Summary: When he was younger, Fuji once found a shop that claimed to sell wishes. Tenipurixxxholic crossover. Gen or TezukaFuji if you choose to interpret as such. oneshot.


**Smoke and Mirrors**

_written by: LusciniaeCantus_

**Disclaimer:** I own neither xxxholic nor Prince of Tennis.

**A/N:** I just want to thank everyone who's read my previous stories, as well as those who took the time to leave a comment. Thank you all very much. And in particular, thank you **Jamfase** for always providing me with concrit as well as encouragement. :)

I hope you all enjoy this one as well!

* * *

When Fuji was twelve, he'd chanced upon a strange-looking house while wandering the streets of Tokyo. 

He had stopped at the gate to get a better look, but before he knew it, he'd found himself pushing the gates open and walking towards the house. Any attempts to stop before it was too late—because Fuji _was_ a polite child and barging in uninvited to someone's home was really quite rude—were ignored by his suddenly wayward legs.

He was left standing at the threshold of the open doorway, peering into the darkness in the inside of the house.

"Welcome to my shop," a voice drifted from out of the dark. Fuji could smell the bittersweet scent of smoke. "Please come in."

"Come in, come in!" two other voices chorused enthusiastically.

At those words, Fuji stepped inside curiously. Being the polite child that he was, he first bowed to the shopkeeper. "I apologize for intruding so suddenly."

"You have not intruded." Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, Fuji could see a tall, slender woman lounging in a cushioned antique wood divan. She was dressed in an elaborate red kimono embroidered with black butterflies, a long pipe held in one hand trailing smoke. A large, circular mirror rested on the wall behind her, it's reflection somewhat distorted by the slight curve of its surface.

The woman's red-gold eyes watched him hypnotically. Her presence was a powerful one; one that had seen ages pass while remaining the same with all the dignity of an empress.

On either side of the woman stood a young girl, almost doll-like in their appearances. They looked at him with twin, periwinkle and rose-coloured gazes. Fuji could feel no auras emitting from them at all, and avoided their dull eyes with a prickling of discomfort. They reminded him too much of the soulless spirits Yumiko used to tell him about.

"This is a shop after all," the lady continued. "Your coming here is not unwelcome at all."

Fuji stepped farther into the room, his lidded eyes scanning the bare walls. "Saa, this is a shop?"

"Yes."

He looked at the woman in red, the smile on his face only holding the barest hints of curiosity. "What do you sell?" He didn't point out that the walls were empty of any kind of merchandise.

The woman's lips curved into a faint smile. "We sell wishes. For a fair price."

Fuji's eyebrow twitched, the sole outward sign of his surprise at the answer. "That sounds intriguing," he remarked mildly. "How does it work?"

The witch— _Witch?_ Fuji thought. _Where had that come from?_ —stood in a fluid motion and glided towards him. "You tell us your wish, and we will grant it."

Fuji's eyes followed her movements under his half-closed lids. "For a price," he added, his smile never wavering.

"Of course!" The lady's face broke into a wide smile, her eyes disappearing into slits. "A _fair_ price."

"I see. Interesting."

The woman's eyes opened again, the mesmerizing orbs of molten gold resting solidly on him. Her smile did not falter. Looking up at her smile, Fuji felt a twinge of envy and admiration. He could feel the weight of the secrets and hidden emotions behind that smile, which was years ahead of his at concealing truths.

Bending down, she looked straight into Fuji's closed eyes and he had to fight to keep his own neutral smile in place. "You have a wish, young one." Her smile curved into an eternity's worth of mysteries. "We can make it come true." She stood and gazed down at him until it hurt Fuji's eyes to continue looking into the depths of her smile.

_I wish I could smile like you._

When he opened his mouth however, the words that came out were a whispered, "I wish I could find the motivation to move forward, to reach for the sky."

His eyes opened in surprise at the sound of his voice saying those words and Fuji felt his smile, his last defence, fall away. _My wish…_

"Granted," the woman pronounced, her own face serious as the games fell away and business was finally being conducted.

"And the price?" Fuji asked, trying to keep his voice as light as possible. His eyes had snapped shut as soon as the initial shock dissipated, and he reached out for his smile.

The witch—of her powers, Fuji was no longer doubtful—extended her free hand to him. "Your memory of this visit and a small part of your gifts."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "My tennis?"

"No." Her smile returned. "Your other gift." _The one that runs in your blood as it runs in your sister's._ "The gift of Foresight. Will you pay, Fuji Syusuuke?"

His brow creased in consideration as he pondered this, though he still didn't really understand what it was the witch-woman wanted. Finally, he lifted his head and, having found his smile again, replied, "I will."

"Very well. But understand this," the witch cautioned, her gaze sharpening and honing in on him. "Such a powerful force will bind you to it for the rest of your life."

"Of course," Fuji replied calmly, but the flash of his blue eyes told her quite clearly that he wouldn't have it any other way. "I understand."

The witch nodded in acknowledgement and reached out her hand touch his chest. Light bloomed from where her fingers pressed lightly against him, filling the dark room. It flared out to engulf the witch and Fuji, then receded back into the boy. A small, golden object fell onto her outstretched palm.

Fuji stood stock-still in the middle of the room, his brilliant blue eyes dimmed to a dull sheen under heavy lids—a mark of the spell just used to extract the price the woman demanded.

"Maru, Moro, please see our guest out."

"Ok!" The two doll-like girls jumped up from their still positions, running to do their mistress' bidding cheerfully. They each latched onto one of Fuji's arms and began tugging him towards the door. He followed them, his eyes dazed, as they led him to the front gate.

Once past the shop's gates, he opened his eyes as though coming out of a deep sleep and looked around his surrounding, blinking once in surprise. His eyes narrowed in thought, as though trying to remember something just out of his reach. Then, apparently deciding it wasn't too important, he gave a single shake of his head and hurried home. He had a sudden urge to ask Yumiko to tell one of her old stories about ageless witches and their puppet-doll servants.

He never once looked back at the strange shop from which he'd emerged just moments ago.

--

Yuko watched Maru and Moro leave with the boy, an indescribable look in her eyes.

"What did you take from some poor person this time?" The irritated question coming from the backroom pulled her from her reverie. A young man dressed in a black school uniform and wearing an apron stepped out from the door leading to the back of the shop, a cross look on his face.

Yuko spun around to face her young worker, grinning innocently. "Watanuki! Don't sound so upset!" She glanced back at the door where Maru and Moro had just returned. "I just gave that child his heart's desire."

"But you took something too, didn't you?" he retorted, crossing his arms.

"I charged a fair price," Yuko corrected. She lifted the object in her hand that shone dully when it caught the light. "A small piece of his memories and a portion of his Gift."

Watanuki stared in consternation at the item Yuko was now twirling around her finger carelessly. "A piece of his memory? And it looks like that?"

Yuko snapped the small, golden key back into her hand with an expert flick of her wrist, smiling. "Why? What did you expect a memory to look like?" Her eyes flickered to the young man. "Are memories not the keys to our pasts? To our very identities?"

"You took away _a part of him_!" Watanuki accused. "_And_ you stole his talent!"

"I did no such thing," Yuko huffed defensively. "I never steal anything from my customers. He paid the price willingly for a service provided. And besides, this is not a part of him that he will need along the path that he will eventually walk."

"You don't know that!"

Her smile deepened into a smirk, and a faraway look came into her eyes as though she was looking at something that no one else could see. "Oh, but I do." She drew herself up and looked out the open door, beyond the terrace and into the bustling early evening Tokyo crowds. "His sister may eventually grow to become somewhat of a clairvoyant, but Fuji-kun will have little need for his Gift of Foresight in his future."

Watanuki sighed resignedly. "What did the poor kid ask for anyways?" he muttered under his breath, already turning away.

His answer was a sharp rap on the head with Yuko's pipe. "That's confidential!" she told him, mock-scolding.

"However," she continued in a serious voice, "what he wished for had not been far from his side to begin with. He just never found it."

"So you _did_ cheat him!" Watanuki shouted, whirling around and pointing a finger accusingly at the witch. "It's not granting a wish if he already has what he wished for!"

Yuko laughed at his outburst of righteousness.

"Haven't you ever heard of a 'finder's fee', Watanuki-kun?"

--

That night, while he was lying awake in bed, Fuji tried to recall what he had done that afternoon. He had a nagging feeling that it was somehow significant, but his mind was drawing a stubborn blank.

Rolling onto his back with a sigh, he stared up at his ceiling as though searching for the answers in the little glow-in-the-dark stars that Yumiko had decorated his room with back when he was younger.

Something about smoke and darkness and wishes…

He slowly drifted off to sleep, his mind having hit another dead end. The broken fragments revolved before his closed eyes in a haze of misty, half-formed images.

That night, Fuji dreamt of bright fluttering silk butterflies, beautiful soulless servant dolls, and countless distorted mirror images of red-gold eyes hidden behind a smile that stretched into infinity.

He dreamt of reaching towards the sky and plucking out the brightest stars to adorn his walls.

--

The next day, Fuji met Tezuka Kunimitsu.

* * *

**A/N II: **As usual, I'd love to hear from you all on what you thought.   



End file.
